


The Power of Cheap Eyeliner

by Annehiggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a hunt in San Francisco, the Winchesters and Castiel need a 'pretty princess' for bait. Gabriel supplies one. Based on <a href="http://fast-writing.livejournal.com/6180.html?thread=47396#t47396">this prompt</a> for the Top!Cas Meme graciously hosted by Fast Writing. Eyeliner image used for scene breaks is from Jensen's role in <em>10-Inch Hero</em> so no Photoshop needed (looking to the right correct orientation for photo used.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Cheap Eyeliner

**Author's Note:**

> Sam's remark about his height goes back to Jared saying his growth spurt was the final 4 inches. I can't (which doesn't mean it doesn't exist) find any reference to him being anything but tall for his age in high school.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000g0zf/)

**The Power of Cheap Eyeliner**  
By Anne Higgins

"Son of a bitch!" Dean Winchester shouted at the ceiling, "Get back here and fix this!"

Predictably nothing happened. Denied one target, he whirled on the next logical choice. "God damnit, Sammy, I'm so kicking your ass!"

"Me?" Sam immediately back peddled away from his brother and the green fire blazing in his eyes. "I didn't do anything!"

"You gave him the freaking idea!"

Castiel sighed. Things were not going well, but then they seldom did when Gabriel was involved.

  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/) **Three Hours Earlier** [](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000k71x/)  


For once the sort of hotel they could afford worked out since they were pretty much standard in the district they needed to cover. At least they were used to the funky smells and had learned long ago not to think about the origins of carpet stains. Dean sighed and tossed his duffle on the bed nearest the door. He flashed an apologetic smile at Cas because maybe this place was a little worse than usual, and it wasn't like the angel could just pop off to better surroundings like he used to.

"It's fine, Dean," Cas said like he'd read his mind. Not that he could. Cas had lost the mental magic along with most of his mojo when he got sentenced to spend a human lifetime trapped on Earth after the last Earth-almost-destroyed clusterfuck. Harsh, although Dean supposed it beat going full-on human. Dude was still a BAMF in a fight. Healed fast, too, which kept Dean from having a nervous breakdown from worrying, but Cas had to sleep and eat these days. And angel-express took way too much out of him to go under the heading of anything but 'use only in case of extreme emergency.' Somehow that usually translated to 'keeping Dean not dead,' but he shut those thoughts down fast. Pissed him off to no end. Confused him, too. Never could figure out if it was some screwy sense of obligation or … Yeah, no, enough of that.

"So, Sammy, vengeful spirt?"

Sam nodded from the couch Dean and Cas would take alternate nights sleeping on. Couldn't really ask Sam to take a turn -- over-grown bitch wouldn't fit and a stiff, cranky Sammy was shit as back-up. "Think we've got another serial killer's ghost to deal with."

"Peachy," he muttered rolling his eyes. They'd split up during the last hunt. Dean and Cas had taken a detour to deal with a poltergeist while Sam and Jo Harvelle had gone on ahead to San Francisco to start flexing his Research Boy powers. Been doing that more often lately -- working at least partial cases separately. Dean didn't mind so much when Sam was riding shotgun with Bobby or Jo, but he just knew they were headed for a showdown over Sam trying to do more than the boring parts on his own. Not happening. Dad might have done the solo-gig thing, but Dean's brief time with that shit had left a nasty taste in his mouth. No back-up, no hunt. His little brother could give him bitchface #10 all he wanted; Dean wasn't budging on that point.

"Another?" Cas echoed.

"Yeah, case we worked with Jo," Dean told him. Good times. Not. "Only way to make a serial killer suck more than in real life? Turn 'em all vengeful spirit." Ugh. "That one had a thing for pretty blondes." Like Joanna Beth Harvelle. Been lucky to get her out alive. Been even luckier Ellen hadn't kicked their asses for letting her have anything to do with the hunt. As if anyone could keep either of the Harvelle ladies from doing what they wanted to. Made Jo a good match for Sam now that she'd gotten over her crush on him, and signs said things were heading in that direction. "That why she's not here?" Gal had come a long way in her hunting skills – kind of was that or die given the last few years – but no way he wanted to relive old times.

"No, Ellen needed her to cover the Roadhouse while she chased down a Rugaru with Bobby." Ah, yes, another budding romance. Another few months and Dean might be the only single one left. Well, him and Cas. "Victims are all male prostitutes. Eight of them in the last three weeks."

Ouch. But ghosts were worse than the living about intervals between killings. They didn't stop this one it could end up being eight a night. Or more. "Any leads?" Local newspapers were full of how useless the cops were, but they didn't know what they were looking for.

"Yeah, all matches up with a series of murders in the eighties." Sam opened a file folder and started covering the cheap plastic table that frequented most of their home-of-the-moments with photos. "Cops at the time thought this guy looked good for it." He tapped the image of a mid-twenties-something dude with dark hair. "Name was Karl Brock."

Dean glanced at the obvious mug shot. "Another prostitute?"

Sam nodded. "Hung himself after the last killing."

Simple enough then. "So we find his grave and –" Sam shook his head. Crap.

"Jo and I did the salt and burn before she headed out, but there was another killing a few hours after we finished."

Double crap. "So either something else is holding him here or we've got no leads."

"Perhaps a family member?" Cas suggested. "Humans tend to seek vengeance on others for their own failings."

"Spent this morning looking into that," Sam answered. "Trouble is Brock used a street name and the locals never did find out his real name."

Awesome. Dean sighed. "We need to get a look at the slime-ball." Getting a visual on the spook might let them ID the human behind it.

"We can try." Sam did his own sighing. "But even with three of us, there's way too many street corners to cover."

Cas tilted his head. "Do the local whores not understand the danger?"

"Dudes are rent boys, not whores, Cas," Dean muttered. "And they've got to pay the bills same as anyone else." Which meant every single time their little trio guessed wrong about place and target another kid was gonna die.

Sam frowned, probably thinking the same thing, his eyes tracking over the pictures of the dead – both from the last few weeks and the original killings. "You know, they all look like you."

"What? No, they don't. I was never that blond."

Bitchface #8 – _your denial is so annoying_ \-- leveled on him. "Yeah, you were." Sam tapped the picture of Brock with his dark hair and handsome features. "You always make it sound like you looked like him. Just like you tell everyone you towered over me in high school when even as a freshman I could look you in the eye."

"I do n-"

"Face it, Dean. You were the perfect bait for our killer back then – a total twink."

"I was n-"

"Oh, this I gotta see!"

Fuck! Dean spun around to see a grinning archangel leaning against the room door. Cas took a step toward his brother, saying, "Gabriel, do not –"

Gabe snapped his fingers, Dean's body tingled, then a huge grin split the feathery douche's face. "Well, ain't you just the prettiest princess in all the land."

Oh, no, he didn't! A second snap of the fingers and a mirror appeared in front of Dean so he could get a good look at the return of the blond highlights and the softness to his features he liked to pretend he'd never had. Fuck! He opened his mouth to start yelling and Gabe vanished. Along with the mirror.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


"I apologize, Dean," Castiel said, handing Sam a cool wash cloth. While Dean had lost several years and some muscle mass, he had lost none of his fighting skill, and had managed to connect with Sam's jaw before Castiel could restrain him. "My brother has always had an unfortunate sense of humor."

Dean said nothing, but continued to glare at Sam while cradling his bruised hand. Neither hurt was beyond Castiel's ability to heal, but Dean had a tendency to overreact when he used his 'mojo.' Given his charge's mood, he merely retrieved a second damp cloth from the bathroom.

A brief flick of green eyes seemed to convey gratitude and he did take the cloth, then wound it around his knuckles. More silence coupled with glares. Castiel had witnessed the birth of the planet they dwelled upon so he settled into a chair to wait the two brothers out.

Fifty-six minutes and three seconds after Gabriel had interfered, Dean leapt to his feet, snapped, "Fine!" and stalked out the door.

"Dean!" Sam called moving to follow, but Castiel caught hold of his arm.

"No, Sam. He needs time to adjust."

Sam shifted, uncomfortable, but they both knew he could not leave the room if Castiel did not wish it. "But … Cas … he's so. …"

Ah. "Yes, his transformation is quite unnerving." He had known Dean possessed a beautiful soul and a face to match, but the human had successfully diminished the impact with his manner of dress, haircut and beard stubble. His brother had altered all but the clothing.

"Unnerving? Cas, he's helpless like that."

Helpless? He gave Sam's bruised jaw a pointed look. The blow had knocked the tall man off his feet. "I believe you are allowing human misconceptions about pretty men to overlook the obvious."

Sam flushed, but the coiled tension in his body did not ease.

"In any case, I am monitoring his movements and will know if he is in distress."

He blinked. "You can do that?"

"Yes, we share a profound bond." Sam gave him a look normally reserved for the taste of unpleasant food, but he relaxed.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


Still pissed – who wouldn't be – but all too aware that Cas' dick of a brother might have given them the only chance they had to prevent another killing, Dean hit the local Goodwill. Next, he picked up a few things from the local pharmacy. And if Sam gave him shit about any of it, he'd shoot the stupid Sasquatch in the ass. With the Colt.

Sun was setting when he got back to the hotel and was greeted with, "Dean, where the hell have you been?"

Damnit! Sammy was all heaving-chest and emo – like he always got when Dean showed the slightest sign of vulnerability. Only thing that had let him endure looking like this the first time was that his brother was too busy being a pissy teenager to notice Dean spent a good amount of his day fending off … 'suitors.' Wasn't going to get off that easy this go-round. Fucking Gabriel.

"Shopping," he answered, making for the bathroom and a door to put between him and Sam before the over-protective moron could decide Dean needed a hug.

"Shopping?"

He decided confused was a good look on Sam, then gestured at his own loose jeans and flannel over-shirt. "This ain't gonna pay the rent, dude," he said, then locked himself in the bathroom.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


"Rent? Oh, no way!" Sam snapped, but once again Castiel's hand closed on his arm to prevent pursuit.

"I believe you were the one to point out that this version of your brother meets our requirements for this job."

"Yeah, but … Cas, the victims … they were raped before they were killed."

The pain humans inflicted on one another would never cease to disgust Castiel, but yes, this was a problem. While being in the proper place at the proper time could prevent such a crime among humans, a spirit could inflict such a violation without warning. They could only hope, this one, as most, preferred to take his time with a victim. "We will protect him," he promised. "I will allow no other outcome."

Sam gave him a long look, then nodded. "Right."

As they'd spent the last few hours, they passed the next twenty minutes going over all the information Sam had gathered. The click of the bathroom door opening made them both look up as Dean stepped back into the room.

More than once Dean had told him he had a tendency to stare, and Castiel had endeavored, admittedly with limited success at least where Dean was concerned, to correct this behavior, but this time he did not even try. Slowly he trained his gaze over worn running shoes, snug jeans with several tears that emphasized the strong, lean body, and an even tighter white t-shirt. But it was Dean's face that transfixed the angel.

Lip gloss made full lips gleam while eyeliner highlighted the eyes. Castiel had always viewed Dean's eyes as one of his Father's greatest masterpieces, but now he found them mesmerizing. Almost painfully beautiful.

Dean leaned back against the door jam and pushed his shining lips into a pout. "See something you like, mister?" he said his voice dripping with the promise of a long night of carnal pleasure.

"Yes."

Sam made a choking sound, and Dean blushed. It took a great deal of will not to go to him, but by focusing on the discomfort his answer had caused the two brothers, he was able to restrain himself.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sam exploded. For a moment he seemed caught between offenses to protest against, then settled on, "you can't go out there looking like … like …"

"A hooker?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Kind of the idea, Sammy."

"But-"

"Damnit, Sam, catch a freaking clue! First skeevy bastard I had to deal with tried to put his hands down my pants when I was freaking 8! I broke his arm and all of his fingers. You keep up this crap and I swear I'll show you I still know those moves!"

Sam flushed. "Look, man, I know you can handle yourself. It's just that you look –"

"Like I can't." Dean's manner softened, and he settled into the soothing tone he tended to use when trying to make Sam understand something he did not wish to. "I know, but that's because you're a freak of nature." He sighed. "I'm pretty, Sam. But I'm not small and I know how to handle this."

He huffed. "Fine. Still won't work. Ghost isn't going for you if you aren't alone."

Dean smirked. "That your way of saying I'm so hot I'll be beating them off with a stick?"

Castiel frowned, disquieted by this. He found he did not like the idea of his human surrounded by admirers. "I believe I concur with Sam. This is a flaw in the plan."

Dean flashed him a look he couldn't quite decipher and shook his head. "Guys, you need to stop focusing on the freaking 'before and after' shit and _look_ at me." He sighed. "Like you said, Sammy, when I was a teenager I looked like a freaking twink, but for all his dickish ways, Gabe saw the pattern and didn't zap me back that far. I'm 20, dude. I was pretty then, but I was _not_ \--"

"A twink." Sam seemed to understand something and looked back at the pictures. "Neither are any of the victims, but they look like they were once."

"Yeah. It's a sleazy world out there, dude. I got hit on by slimeballs a lot more often in the twinky years than in my twenties. I guarantee the same's true for the guys charging for it."

Sam nodded. "Must really piss a guy off to be over-the-hill that young."

"Yatzhee, but instead of going for the replacements, our spook offed guys who reminded him of himself until he worked up the courage to gank himself."

"Then you believe we are dealing with Brock's spirit?" Castiel asked.

Dean nodded. "And he's not movin' on until we talk him off the ledge."

It took him a moment to understand the reference and he did not like it. "He will attempt to harm you during this conversation."

Green eyes gazed at him from beneath long eyelashes. "You'll save me."

"Yes, I will."

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


Dean fought a smirk as his latest 'customer' drove off in disgust, then leaned back against the brick wall grateful it wasn't a cold night. Like he'd told Sam and Cas, he knew how to deal with this. By the time he'd turned fourteen he'd figured out the easiest way to deal with the 'how much?' set was to play along and quote a price they wouldn't pay. He'd even made a game out of assessing someone well enough to go just far enough over the cash line. The few times he'd guessed wrong, his height and 'back off or lose a limb, pal' glare had dealt with it. But he hadn't missed the mark since he was sixteen.

Hadn't lost the skill, and his would-be 'suitors' hadn't lingered more than a minute at a time. Been more earlier. Figured the latest dissatisfied dude had been number 12. Flattering in a skin-crawly way, but like he'd told Sam and Cas, he was too big and beyond pretty-pretty to appeal to someone with pedophilic – yeah, he knew the word, Sam, suck on that – fantasies, and the poor jerks who just wanted to pay for a hot dude's 'company' had better sense than to cruise with a serial killer on the prowl. For the most part. Twelve exceptions so far.

Thirty minutes slipped by without another potential buyer showing and he focused on looking tired, hungry and defeated by a life that had already worn him down. Not much of a stretch, and okay, maybe it wasn't the best time for a pity party and enough with the method acting.

As a nice underline on the point, something moved at the edge of his vision. Temperature hadn't done a ghostly drop, but sometimes it didn't, just like sometimes salting and burning the bones didn't get rid of the things. Had to love how complicated even the 'simple' shit got, except, no, not so much. So game on or not?

The movement solidified in a totally not ghostly manner as a guy about his size approached him. Took a few steps for the street light to give Dean a few details. Definitely dressed in 'come and get me, big boy' manner, but nothing flickered to say 'not entirely one with the good old Earthly plain' either. Had dark-hair though and yeah, it was Brock. Awesome, time to 'Dr. Phil' the murdering bastard into the light. Or the Pit. Whatever. That was all above his pay-grade. Still was a shame, Sammy couldn't do the stint in the tight jeans, 'cause otherwise this was a hell of a lot closer to his kind of gig.

"Long night?" Dean asked. Lame, but ice breakers usually were and he only had a few seconds to establish enough of an interest before Brock hit the circle of salt protecting Dean and took off after easier prey. Cas had even mixed the stuff with glue so it wouldn't blow away in the breeze, but if it came down to it, Dean knew he'd step over it. Couldn't let this one get away.

"Aren't they all?" No ghostly shimmer in the voice or the features. Maybe Cas had guessed right and this was some look-alike relative out for revenge. Fucking fantastic. He hated it when humans were behind shit.

"I hear ya, dude. But this one's crappier than most. All the shit going on has everyone but the pervs calling it an early night." Because it could still be a ghost, and that meant a nice girly-opening for mutual sharing-and-caring about how sucky all this was and hey, how about moving on already?

Brock grinned. "Well, maybe I can keep you in practice?"

Okay, straight to the power games with no foreplay. No wonder the dude had flopped at this job. "Uh, no, I was thinking more about a cup of coffee, but, um, thanks."

He reached for Dean, no big surprise there. But the angle of Brock's head let the street light strike his eyes and they flashed silver.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


Castiel watched a young man approach Dean and frowned. He could not sense a spirit form, yet he could make out Karl Brock's features despite the darkness. "Sam, are we certain Brock is dead?"

"Yes," Sam answered also watching intently. The need to prevent both potential 'customers' and the spirit they sought from sensing their presence had forced them to park the Impala several blocks down the street. Such a distance did not allow Sam to see events around Dean clearly, but this was not a problem for the angel.

What did bother him was the large number of men who had attempted to buy sexual favors from Dean. Somehow he felt they should know they sought to defile his charge, that Dean's t-shirt hid Castiel's mark (something not even Gabriel's meddling could remove) from their unworthy eyes. Eyes. Dean's eyes. He had always known the human had beautiful eyes. In truth he found everything about him beautiful, even some of his more volatile moods. Yes, they were extremely annoying, but they were part of Dean, so they were also beautiful. This he had known from the beginning. Before his feelings deepened.

No, he was not unaware of his love for Dean. He never had been despite the insistence of others on pointing it out to him as if he were some fool who did not understand emotions simply because he had never felt particular ones. He had even known he loved Dean more than all things. So Castiel could not understand how the application of some brown-black liquid around Dean's eyes had unsettled him so greatly.

Yes, this eyeliner fluid emphasized the beauty of the wearer's eyes, but he had already known Dean's were beautiful. He'd spent the time sitting in the car, watching and mulling over this flaw in his thought processes. When he wasn't preoccupied with restraining his odd impulse to smite anyone who stopped to … purchase Dean. "Something is not right here," he said, moving from his place in the car to stand beside it without bothering with the door. Dean would be angry with him if he found out despite Castiel's constant reassurances that such minor 'teleports' did not weaken him. And sometimes, as in this case when the sound and light of exiting the car was not to their advantage, it was necessary.

As he watched, Brock reached forward. Dean tried to evade the grasp, but with inhuman speed the thing grabbed him, wrenching off Dean's t-shirt even as it threw him into the lamp post. In the next instant Castiel stood between them.

"Cas," Dean gasped, struggling to pull in air after the impact. "Shifter. Need silver."

"No, I do not." He seized the creature and caught a glimpse of the past few days, of a shifter who had killed a young man, and who, in turn, had been attacked by a spirit. Somehow, not only had the shifter survived the encounter, but he had also assumed the guise of the person the spirit had once been. An interesting puzzle, one he should examine in greater detail, but the heinous thing struggling in his grasp had attempted to rape and murder his human. His Dean. It did not leave Castiel in the mood for mysteries. Or mercy.

A body designed to destroy and reform itself made the creature difficult to kill. For a human. He suffered no such limitations of strength and speed. Limbs flew in opposite directions, the head rolled into the street, and blood spattered over everything. He finished by crushing the thing's heart in his bare hand. Most satisfying.

He turned to see Dean propped in Sam's arms, both staring at him with wide eyes.

"Cut, print, and that's a wrap, people," Gabriel announced appearing beside them.

"Brother," he growled.

"Right, clean up time." A snap of the fingers and every trace of the shifter vanished, including the blood all over Castiel. The archangel smiled with satisfaction. "Much better. Wouldn't want to mess up the lady fair, after all."

Snap. Castiel's arms were suddenly full of Dean. He might have enjoyed the moment, but for Dean's wince of pain and the unnatural movement of one of the human's ribs. "Oops, better fix that, too."

Snap. Dean sighed with relief and started to turn his own scowl on Gabriel.

"Awww, isn't he cute? You seriously need to hit that, baby bro." Snap.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


Dean's stomach twisted in its usual protest at travel via 'angel express' and maybe at the tacky surroundings. No more dark street corner, instead he was in the velvety, red overkill of a hotel room he recognized from way too much alone time with 'Casa Erotica' pornos. In another example of massive overkill, Gabe had 'neglected' to send any clothes along for the ride. And, oh, yeah, Dean was still in Cas' arms. Kind of clutching at him, too. Stupid way to travel. Almost preferred a freaking airplane. At least then it would be a fiery plunge to doom instead of dying from humiliation.

Might help if he tried focusing on something other than naked skin against naked skin. Couldn't figure out exactly how to move from this to 'hey, let's find a way home and can we kill your freaking brother while we're at it?'

Cas seemed to have figured it out because he moved to put Dean down. On the bed. And he didn't exactly let go. Instead, the naked angel settled on top of him. "Cas?" he whispered, trying to wrap his mind around forming a full question. The press of lips to his pretty much shot that plan.

And God damn, what a kiss. Deep, hot and possessive – curled Dean's toes and had him make more with the clinging stuff. Might not have been too successful at stopping the whimper-like sound when Cas drew back either.

"Voice any objections now," the angel sort of growled, "or I will indeed 'hit that.'"

Really? Cas wanted him? Since when …? Oh. Guess the pretty-pretty princess blast from the past was good for more than serial killer bait. Good to know, and yeah, that was sarcasm, but he'd ignore it if it would get him Cas. Yeah, he could learn to deal. Not like his self-esteem could get much worse anyway. "Go for it," he husked, pulling at Cas' shoulders. Wanted more kisses before his stupid brain could start playing killjoy.

Cas shifted his lips to nuzzle at Dean's neck. Felt so good, but his stomach refused to settle down. Would Cas still want him if – A nip made him gasp and his eyes popped open. Found himself looking into a pair of green eyes all made up for a night of attracting customers. And no, he couldn't do this. Except … beyond the eyeliner, Gabriel must have undone the age make-over when he'd fixed his rib. Was back to normal. Cas wanted _him_ not 'pretty-princess Dean.' Thought made his stomach flutter in a good way.

"All those men" Cas growled around nips and kisses, "wanting what is mine."

Damn, he loved the sound of that. "Yours, yes," he panted, his legs wrapping around Cas' torso. "Never let … anyone else … touch me."

The nudge of Cas' cock against his hole made him stiffen. He opened his mouth to shout 'whoa, dude, lube!' but the thick length pushed in with a slick easy glide. Guessed angel mojo had a few good uses after all. Then Cas began to thrust and Dean stopped thinking about anything but harder, faster, oh, God, yes! Saw stars when he came. Honest to God freaking stars.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


Having surrendered to his carnal need for Dean, Castiel found himself unable to stop touching the human and more than a match for his passionate nature. Since Gabriel had sent them to this place, he had taken Dean twice more. He had also discovered, despite much posturing in the past to indicate otherwise, Dean enjoyed … closeness afterwards. He believed the human term was 'snuggling,' but also felt it wise to not use it within Dean's hearing.

His head resting on Castiel's shoulder, Dean said, "Be ready to go again in another few minutes."

"This is also quite pleasant."

Dean made a humming sound, but it did not match the sex-infused contentment of earlier non-verbal utterances.

"Does something trouble you?"

Dean remained silent for a few minutes, but the mirror above them allowed him to see how he worried his lower lip. Finally, Dean asked, "Am I good enough to make up for it?"

Every single time Castiel thought the human had managed to string together words in the most perplexing way possible, Dean found a way to exceed all his expectations. "You are indeed good, but enough to make up for what?"

"Being stuck here," he answered softly. "On Earth." Even Castiel had difficulty hearing the final, "with me."

He frowned, momentarily forgetting Dean could see him as well, and the man stiffened, his muscles tensing as if he planned to slip away. Castiel moved first, turning them to trap Dean beneath his own body. "I believe you misunderstood my explanation when I returned." He should have known. Between his own still-at-times awkward communication skills and Dean's ever present self-esteem issues, he supposed it was inevitable.

Dean frowned. "You said God sentenced you to a 'human lifetime' here."

Ah. Yes, he had indeed done a poor job of explaining, but it had not been a simple task given what he had assumed was a need to conceal the significance of his return from a man who tended to shy away from 'chick-flick moments.' "God did not sentence me, Dean. He honored my request to remain with you." Not 'a human lifetime,' but Dean's lifetime.

Eyes widened, but instead of pushing him away as Castiel had feared he would should he ever learn the truth, Dean wrapped his limbs around the body over him. "You're mine, too, then?"

He brushed his lips against Dean's. "From the moment I first saw you."

A blush colored high cheekbones. "Kind of … awesome."

He reached up to caress the side of Dean's face. "I believe so, yes." He could not stop himself from lightly brushing a finger beneath the makeup highlighting Dean's eyes.

Made Dean wrinkle his nose. "I can go wash it off."

Castiel frowned. Dean mirrored the expression, then seemed to understand something. "You like me wearing this junk."

He sensed this was one of the moments when direct honesty might be far from wise, but could think of nothing better to say than, "Perhaps."

Dean smirked. "That why Gabe left it on?"

Castiel sighed, never pleased when Gabriel understood something better than he did. "I believe he realized it was compelling me to approach you."

"Approach me, huh." Dean looked amused. "Guess I need to get Gabe a chocolaty reward. Right after you 'approach me' seven or eight more times."

As far as Castiel was concerned, an amused, sex-disheveled Dean in eyeliner would tempt the most indifferent of souls and he was far from indifferent. With a growl, he set about the assigned task.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/)

  


A few days later, Dean bought Gabriel the largest box of chocolates he could find. He also bought some more eyeliner. Even gave some to Jo. Stuff seemed to work for her, too, and Sammy finally got with the game plan. Amazing what a tube of cheap eyeliner could do.

He smiled and went to convince Cas it was time the dude took him up against the wall. Cas agreed.

  


[](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000hxw8/) end [](http://pics.livejournal.com/anne_higgins/pic/0000k71x/)  



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